Reflections on a critical month in the admissions process, by David L. Marcus, author of “Acceptance.”

The woman corners me after I give a speech about college admissions.

“My son isn’t the best student,” she begins, “but we think he has a good chance of getting into _________”

I can guess: Stanford or Duke, Yale or Northwestern. I’m sure I already know the story. The boy has a B-plus average and disappointing SAT scores, but Dad went there, and a family friend worked in the admissions office.

For seven years, I’ve crisscrossed the country, discussing what I learned while writing two books about teenagers. Help your children find their hidden talents, I advise parents. Teach your children to be independent. Don’t live your dreams through your son or daughter.

As this mother shares her application strategies, I want to recommend that she let her son find his path. I stay quiet, though, because I’m struggling to follow my own advice.

Somewhere in my files, I have a photo of my son, Benjie, and me on the steps of the admissions office of my alma mater, Brown University. We were framed by glowing yellow forsythia, and I was beaming.

Benjie was two weeks old.

At the time, I was a fellow at Harvard. Soon after, I did a brief teaching stint at Dartmouth’s Tuck School of Business. I secretly hoped my son would go to one of those Ivy campuses. Maybe I saw that as the seal of approval for my parenting – my boy in Cambridge, or Hanover, or Providence.

Benjie demonstrated, by his nature, that he had other plans. In kindergarten, he was the restless one who preferred exploring to listening to directions. When a private school turned him down for first grade, I felt I’d been gut-punched.

The homework wars erupted in fourth grade – a 20-minute assignment stretched on for three hours, punctuated by cries of “I hate writing!” Later, while I tried to explain long division, he stormed out of the house. He stayed in the yard till dark, digging holes and watching birds.

I pushed enrichment; he refused to try “stupid” scouting. He dropped soccer. Basketball lasted long enough for me to buy a uniform.

Experts analyzed Benjie with the Stanford-Binet, the Woodcock-Johnson Tests of Cognitive Ability, the Wechsler Intelligence Scale – and I fretted over his percentiles and hired tutors. At the same time, it seemed most of my friends’ preteens were doing genome research.

Benjie is 14 now. At that age, I pestered teachers for extra credit assignments. Benjie is satisfied with a C; he doesn’t understand why anyone cares about spelling words correctly; the notion of revising an essay is foreign to him.

At 14, I knew I wanted to be a writer. When I ask what he sees himself doing in 10 years, he answers vaguely about working with animals. But he most likely won’t be a vet – too much chemistry and biology, he says.

And yet Benjie has so much that I lack. As a teenager, I was a shy, awkward outsider. The other day, walking through Benjie’s school for a meeting, I saw him regaling a gaggle of kids in the hallway with some fascinating tale.

More important, he’s developed empathy. When he and six other kids saw a classmate accused of shoplifting on a school trip, Benjie persuaded the others to avoid gossiping.

Last summer, I envisioned Benjie toiling in a lab at science camp, but I lost the will to fight another battle. Instead, I sent him to stay with my brother and sister-in-law, who breed dogs. At their house, work begins at 5:30 a.m., seven days a week. Benjie would have to follow orders without questions.

Three hundred miles away, I waited for the call begging to come home. Instead, I got one-word texts like “awsomme” – misspelled every time, in true Benjie fashion.

When the visit ended, my sister-in-law sent a note saying that Benjie had pitched in tirelessly with chores and even cleaned the yard after 17 spaniels dirtied it. He groomed dogs for two hours straight without getting antsy.

“Benjie is an amazing kid and human being,” she wrote. “He is smart, funny, curious, caring.”

Twelfth grade is a few years away, but I’m already imagining Benjie’s application essay: “My name is Benjamin but no one calls me that. I’m an animal-loving, cello-playing, cross-country-running nomad who has gone to six school districts in three states because of my dad’s stupid career.”

I spend a lot of time in high-pressure communities, speaking to anxious mothers and fathers like me. We want our children to go to great colleges and prepare for a brutal job market.

Still, I tell families to stop obsessing about campuses with marquee names. I’ve visited dozens of little-known schools where professors are far more engaged in teaching than Ivy League faculty. Also, in this economy, I can make a strong case for going to community college or mastering a trade.

Above all, I urge parents of high school juniors and seniors not to see their kids as SAT and ACT scores and G.P.A.s, but as creative, unpredictable, unprogrammable teenagers with their own gifts.

Like my son, Benjie.

So whom did you relate to in this essay: the author? Benjie? Please use the comment box to let us know.

Mr. Marcus is the author of “Acceptance: A Legendary Guidance Counselor Helps Seven Kids Find the Right Colleges – and Find Themselves” (Penguin Press), and a former education reporter at Newsday and U.S. News and World Report. At the end of this month, he will take on a new post directing public relations for the New York Institute of Technology.

I think I just fell in LOVE with you & your parenting! I read The Choice daily – and today I read the most honest, real, valuable post ever. Your son will do amazing things in life because you are able to see his gifts, and celebrate those gifts with him. My son (high school senior) is similar to Benjie…but sadly I did not adopt your attitude until recently. Funny…the more I began to accept him/his gifts, the happier we all became, and his grades began to soar. Hmmmm. Thank you for writing this…you’ve made my day!

this is the single best essay i have ever read. maybe because it has both points of view – we know the strivers, and we know the defenders who say it doesn’t matter in a way that still seems to make going one’s own way sound like a deficit. this is written by someone who knows and values both. benjie sounds like some of the best people i’ve met in life (simple, direct, and REAL). his father sounds the same.

Thank you for your story. I certainly relate to the author but fortunately also realize from my experience with marquee schools that it is truly, truly not worth stressing over (although I still stress about my children’s future, generally). The key, as Mr. Marcus clearly states, is allowing young people to find their own path. It is so simple and we insist on making it more difficult.

Great post. It is hard for humans to truly love and accept one another for who they are. It is particularly important for parents to do so. It’s inspiring to read about how you’re loving and supporting your son to be the best version of himself that he can be.

My background was lower middle class, rural, public school, and blue collar. My classmates were upper middle class, urban or suburban, private school, and white collar. I found them to be interested in primarily partying and drugs, and with a strong arrogance and sense of entitlement. Watching national events unfold in the economy over the last couple of years, I can confidently pinpoint the source of the problem: my classmates.

I decided long ago my kids would not be going to an Ivy League school.

My first born child was, of course, going to be a genius & excel at every sport he played. Obviously, that never happened.

He was an early walker, but didn’t speak until he was 2yrs old. When he started to speak, he spoke in complete sentences & spoke a foreign language at 3yrs. Sports didn’t interest him at all. The soccer & softball leagues were of no interest to him, but he could answer the telephone & take messages by the time he was 5.

Needless to say, he was an average student all through school, but held class offices starting in 5th grade & ended his high school career as Sr Class President.

He was upset not to have gained admission into one of the Ivy League universities, but excelled at his college of choice, making Dean’s List & winning the President’s award.

His abilities have taken him to new heights professionally & he has only himself to thank. I’m proud of him every day of my life.

The real question is who should change? Mr. Marcus says that it is us — as opposed to these elite colleges that take a narrow view of what qualifies as achievement and success.

As Mr. Marcus intimates, it is statistically unlikely that Benjie will ever go to an ivy-league school. Perhaps impossible. But if had a demonstrated empathy beyond most, isn’t this the kind of diversity that should cultivated by elite institutions.

Better that they accept people like Rachel Yould. (See Jeffrey Toobin, The Scholar, The New Yorker 76 (Oct. 4, 2010) (discussing ivy-leagued credentialed “success” story built upon fraud and deceit).

Furthermore, any Dean of Admission that claims acceptance and rejections are based on more than raw test scores and GPA is trying to delude us into thinking that one exceptional example is the norm in the admission process.

Benjie shows no interest in school work, so his father grudgingly admits that his son is not Ivy League material. But it sounds like Benjie is not “college material”, forget about the Ivy League. What “application essay” is Dad talking about?

Many people, arguably most, should not be going to college, because most people are of average or below-average intelligence, and some people who are smart enough are not interested in college-level study.

Dear Dave Your last paragraph says it all. Benjii will forge his own way by his own methods. You should be proud of a son who shows empathy for others, can work hard on a job that he likes, and has a sense of humour. Moreover, his varied interests, such as running cross country and playing the cello, reveal that he pursues interests of his own. You are right about smaller colleges with excellent professors and trade schools. Your moves might have been challenging for him. So if you are really interested in his future try to stay on one place so he can be at one high school in the next few years.

My experiences shape my education hopes for my children, although I know they need to find their own way and I do try to provide experiences that will let them find “their” way rather than “mine.”

Both my husband and I are Ivy League graduates, and are now faculty in the sciences at a large state university. What we both valued about our Ivy League education is the quality of our peers; my roommates were double majors in Chinese/Am Civ and Russian/Pure Math while I was studying German/Biology. We had such great dinnertime conversations, and my life has been enriched immeasurably by my UG and graduate experiences. I think the quality of those experiences shaped my commitment to and the pleasure I have in learning.

It would be great if our children could get into (and want to attend) Brown or Dartmouth (of course, we don’t look favorably on Yale or Princeton or Harvard ha ha). But, my children are only 1, 3, and 6.5 yrs old! I make every effort to realize I have achieved what I want, and I just need to help them in what they want to achieve. I have had my chance, and I do not need to re-live my life through my children.

This brought tears to my eyes. My son just entered college, and I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that he didn’t get into a “good” college while it seems like every other kid that I know got into ivies. My son, who does not like to share his feelings, has said to me recently that nothing he does is ever good enough for me. At the time, I denied that, even to myself, because I told myself that he is not working up to his potential and that it’s my job to prod him. But now I see that I was wrong. It’s so easy to get caught up with the college admissions madness, but we need to see our kids beyond their GPAs and SAT scores as the writer says. My daughter is a junior in high school now, and I hope I’ll do better by her.

I can recall, many moons ago, how my parents would pester me about getting into a “good” college or university and getting somewhere in life. Their priorities weren’t necessarily my own, however, and after rather ingloriously flunking out of Penn State after my sophomore year (never quite made it to the Ivy League anyway) I decided to enlist in the Coast Guard. That distressed both of my folks, but it was my choice and ultimately they had no option other than to just deal with it. Now, nearly twenty years on down the line I can look back at a successful and productive career having advanced to Senior Chief Petty Officer (and I finally did go back to school around ten years ago, finishing up my Bachelors degree). Also, I’m happily married with two rambunctious kids who sound an awful lot like Benjie. They’re both bright, sociable and I think precocious, but ultimately I’m going to allow them to do what they’d like to do when it comes time to “grow up.” After all, it’s their lives to lead, not mine. I think I’ve done what I can reasonably do as a father to help and guide my kids, but the last thing I have any desire to do is to live vicariously through either of them. It sounds to me as if you’ve got the same smart game plan with your son. Best of luck to the both of you (and I’ll bet good money that he’ll turn out to be a very successful young man someday).

Dave Marcus’ essay really struck a nerve. My son is a senior in a high achieving district where the majority of parents are hell-bent on getting their child into one of the Ivies. Early decision, no less. But my son’s high school academic career has been lackluster. A C- GPA and mediocre SATs hardly garners interest from even second-tier schools, never mind my alma mater Cornell.

Although I admit to a bit of envy when I hear about children of former classmates who have being accepted, I know in my heart that Cornell wouldn’t be the right choice for my son even if he had the grades to get in. And I remind him (and myself) that attending an Ivy League caliber school is no indicator of future success in life.

I have been an alumni (’81) interviewer for Northwestern for years. (Though I have a very tiny , tiny say in the admission process, lest anyone thinks I can help their child.win admission.) My sister-in-law is also an NU grad, and neither of my nieces were accepted at NU, though their scores/grades/extracurriculars where the same as mine when I applied 20 years prior. I never would have been accepted at NU today. In fact, the University of Illinois– very difficult to get into now–was my fallback! There is so much pressure for the children of the middle and upper middle class to attend a “prestige” university — the kids I interview have often applied to 10-12 schools, most of which they have no chance of getting into, including NU. I realize the kids themselves are often unrealistic, but the parents are often encouraging these mass applications and a hope that NU or Brown or Duke does not really consider test scores and grades in the admissions process. There are so many excellent colleges and universities where these kids will thrive, but instead of just selecting among the best college options, these kids waste time, money and get their hopes unnecssarily dashed by applying to schools where they have no chance of acceptance. Of the 5 or 6 kids I speak with at our annual interview day in Cleveland, I often do not recommend any– these are good kids, but they do not have the package–the scores/grades/ activities/work experience/hard-to-put into- words “interest” that will get them into an NU. But they will succeed and shine at a good school more suited to them and prove successful in life anyway. (BTW, both my boss and HIS boss attended state schools.)

As a child of a parent who expected the marquee name and went to one, I thank you for this essay. While I went to the Ivy and did as my parents expected, it was only afterwards that I realized that my goals and theirs are completely different. Now as I try to forge my own path, a path they don’t understand, the fighting begins. I hope one day my parents and others can accept what you see in your own son.

Its nice to hear from a parent of an academically average kid. This college process at my child’s school and everywhere else seems focused on the top schools and the above average kids. Why not talk about schools for B or B- students. Not everyone is an academic overachiever. I hear there is a school for everyone, is there really? Tell us about them.

This is a wonderful article and so different from the usual “how my daughter or son is visiting and applying to Ivy League schools”. It is so important to recognize the true strengths and personalities of our children and to help them become the best and happiest adults possible. I really wish there were more columns like this and fewer by the parents pushing their children to “win” the admissions game.

Oh, most definitely, I identify with you the parent. Even when we are not committed to Ivy League schools (no alums in my household) we still feel challenged to help our children find that special gift or talent that will help them see who they might become as adults. You try one thing after another, you fail, you sort of succeed, and then, it seems like it’s all over.

I don’t care if my child grows up to run (or work for) an animal grooming shop, but only if that’s what she wants for herself.

The most important thing to teach a child is how to live INDEPENDENTLY after you are gone.

Judging by current results, we are doing a lousy job. Half of adult children under 30 are living with their parents. A good portion of the under 40 have moved back in because of economic problems and unemployement. And everyone knows some 50 and maybe 60 year old ‘children’ who never left the nest.

It is reguardless of how brilliant your child is or which Ivy league they attended. 2008 Yale and Harvard grads have moved back home and sing acapellas to the family cat while horizontal on the couch.

Real estate is expensive, Rent too damn high. Jobs are hard to get. Paying bills are a nuisances. But if they do not learn to hustle and deal with stress when young, when will they ever learn?

Our son did get into Yale Univ. & graduate. For many reasons, I was thrilled & saddened when he was accepted. And, to get there, he ended up hating his high school years because of the academic challenges & stress. If I had it to do all over again – I would say who cares if you graduate Top 10 or go to an Ivy League college and who will remember!

I’ve tried to always teach my children that we each possess our own gifts and that an Ivy League education isn’t a ticket to to the top. Find something to do that you love & be passionate about it!

Most assuredly there are many paths to success but going to a name brand school opens doors and gives kids choices and opportunities that they might not otherwise have. And, that’s the undeniable, ugly truth. It does not a career make, but it can sure get your foot in the door.

Parents, think about your own high school reunions: 20, 25, or maybe 30 or 35 years out. And then think about your fellow students and note the surprising success stories. Many of them will have moved on from starts in average colleges or community colleges to positions of leadership and accomplishment in business, health professions, the arts. People aren’t finished developing at 17. If they are helped to identify their talents and pursue their interests via the myriad paths available in this country–and they keep at their efforts–they often make a real mark for themselves and succeed way beyond what their parents, high school teachers, and peers imagined for them.

Funny to read my mom’s reaction here, because the things we achieve when we are young are often motivated by the simple desire to please our parents It’s just the way it is. It’s not until much later when most people figure out how to please themselves, and figure out what they really value.

It’s tough to tell your kids to just be passionate about something. Post-Yale, I can say that it’s actually an authentic connection to what I’m good at–to what brings me happiness and fulfillment–that ‘got my foot into the door’ or created any type of success. I see the degree as completely secondary.

All that being said, I am grateful for every second of my education and the sacrifices made for me:) I just want to emphasize the important of attaching the right values to education and academic performance. Talk to your kids. Ask questions. Enable them to determine what they want. Empty values just won’t sustain a post-college, long-term career.